Music of the Night
by AngelofMusic214
Summary: Elsa Daae never thought of the day when she would be thrown into the limelight when the leading lady quit the show. But soon, she is casted for all the roles, all thanks to her Angel of Music. But as it keeps going and going on, she soon has to choose between her love for her childhood friend, or her love for the music her Angel has created for her, making her, well, her.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! So, this is my first fanfiction and being a new writer and all, it's nerve-racking to post. But, I'm pretty excited about it at the same time. But, if you are too, you can always tell me what you think! Reviews would be awesome! If you like it, tell me! And if you don't, then tell me what I can do to make it better. Critiquing is everything to me. I may have changed some wording and scenes in the story, but nothing major. It simply just made it easier to work with when not everyone was singing their words. But without further ado, I give you my story! Enjoy lovelies! **

* * *

**Chapter** **1**

The room was quiet with nothing but soft footsteps scuffling as the passed the old items left in the run-down Opera Populaire. The tall, slender auctioneer led them to the 660 lot. A man being wheeled around by a young nurse wearing a long, black dress with a white headpiece glanced slightly at the covered objects. A slight pain ached his frail heart, forcing him to look away. The auctioneer tipped his black top hat to the bidders who passed by. The group stopped in front of a crate. The auctioneer had started counting the bids, but the man wasn't listening, for he was pushing back the memories that had haunted him all these years.

"Sold!" the auctioneer yelled out, slamming down his gavel on the crate, causing the man to look back slowly. "Your number, sir? Thank you," he mumbled, scribbling down the number on a sheet of paper. "Lot 663 then. Ladies and gentlemen, a poster of this house's production of _'Hannibal' _by Chalumeau."

"Showing here!" a young porter called out, throwing open the large, old poster of the age-old show, causing dust to fill the air. A few people close by coughed into handkerchiefs and waving it away from their faces. After the dust had settled, the bidders walked up to it and examined it before making up their minds.

"Do I have ten francs?" he asked, scanning the crowd. Not a single sound was made. "Five then." With that, a single paddle raised up in the air. "Five I am bid." More paddles went up into the air. "Six, seven. Against you, sir, seven." Just as the auctioneer was going to call sold, the man in the wheelchair raised up his paddle slightly. "Eight. Eight once." Nothing. "Selling twice. Sold, to Jackson, Vicomte de Chagny." Everyone gave a slow, sarcastic clap. "Lot 664, then: a wooden pistol and three 'human' skulls from the 1831 production of '_Robert le Daible' _by Meyerbeer. Ten francs." Again paddles went up into the air. "Ten francs, thank you. Ten francs, still. Fifteen, thank you, fifteen I am bid. Going for fifteen. Your number, sir?" He scribbled down the number on the same piece of paper.

"665, ladies and gentlemen: a paper-mache musical box in the shape of a barrel-organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey dressed in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theatre, still in working condition."

Another porter came out, setting down the wooden pentagon-shaped golden box. "Showing here," he said, pressing a small button on the bottom of it, causing the top to open and spread apart and fill the silent room with soft, sweet music. The monkey moved, causing Jackson to get lost in the familiar melody. It quietly came to an end and closed back up.

"May I start the bidding at twenty francs?" Nothing. "Fifteen, then? Fifteen I am bid." The bidding kept climbing slowly until Hans had raised it to thirty francs. "Sold for thirty francs to the Vicomte de Chagny. Thank you, sir." The porter picked it up and as he was about to walk away with it, Jackson made a small noise and touched his arm.

"Please, leave it there," he muttered, gripping his chair as he tried to stand up from his chair, using his dark wooded shiny cane to help him to his feet. The young woman grabbed his arm but he just waved her off. As he walked over by using his cane, he slowly took off his black top hat and fixing his silvery-white hair. "A collector's piece indeed," he whispered, running his hand slightly over the box, "every detail, exactly as she said. She often spoke of you, my friend; your velvet lining and your figurine of lead," he muttered, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence. "Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?" The porter slowly picked it up again, glancing at Jackson before leaving.

The auctioneer coughed, trying to bring the attention back to the front. "Lot 666, then: a chandelier, in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair with the Phantom of the Opera; a mystery never fully explained." The Vicomte's jaw was clenched as he leaned against his cane. "We are told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in that famous disaster. Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new electric light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look lie when reassembled."

"Oh no," Jackson muttered, his eyes flickering up to the chandelier attached to the ceiling. "Dear god, no."

"Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination? Gentlemen!" he yelled, pointing to the men to rip off the cover on it. Suddenly, it was lighten up, causing the slightly lit room to be filled with bright light. But just as it was starting to settle down, sparks started flying off and the lights started to flicker on and off repeatedly. Everyone ran out screaming, covering their wives with coats so the sparks wouldn't catch anything on fire. Well, everyone except for Hans. He stared up at the shaking chandelier, causing memories to fill Jackson's mind. He bowed his head down and leaned against his cane, squeezing his eyes shut as tears filled them quickly. The nurse rushed back in, pulling the man behind her as he started to resist and yelled out for everything to stop. As the final screech from the last burning light bulb was made, the Opera Populaire was thrown into complete and utter darkness.

* * *

**So tell me what you think! Review, favor, follow, or anything you want to do! Thank you so much!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody! So, I know it's been a while since I've last updated. My deepest apologies! But I was finishing up school with my final exams (Woo hoo *cough cough* said no one ever), and then the next day, I had 3 straight days of EXTREME pain. My whole body is sore, no thanks to all the dancing I have to do haha. And today is the first day of my job. Woo! But anywho, I finally have time to update! But first, rock candy to 3 people, because come on, who doesn't like rock candy? Well, a few. But anways, rock candy to Gigi122606 for being the only follower I have! You rock! And rock candy to the two reviewers: Trapid and antelucem! Trapid: I'm still deciding to switch Hans and Jack's part (even if Jack isn't in here hyet, but he will be soon!) But I think I'll change it, just since I don't like Hans and Elsa together. You three are helping me with all of this! Thank you all so much! But I'm still pretty new at this, soooo please bear with me on this. This is also the point where I start to change things in my story. If you've ever seen Phantom of the Opera, you'll catch on rather quickly what I changed. And now, CHAPTER TWO! *trumpets playing really loud* Well, it's not ****that**** big of a deal. But I'm going off on a tangent, so without another tangent coming out of my mouth, here you go! Enjoy lovelies!**

* * *

"Attention everyone!" called out Monsieur North, clapping aggressively for attention, but none was given. He tried again, with no response. "Madame Gothel, would you mind?" A tall, serious woman with deep black hair, dressed in a matching long, black dress, came out and banged her cane, causing the room to become quiet. "Thank you. I want you all to welcome the newest owners of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Kristoff Firmin," a young, tall man with strong features and messy blonde hair, "and Monsieur Sanderson Andre." He was a short, plump man with spiky dark blonde hair, and he followed slowly behind Monsieur Kirstoff's long strides. Everyone slowly applauded. A sudden forced cough came from the long blonde haired singer in front. "But of course," North laughed nervously, snapping around to face her. She shot him a glare before smiling and sticking out her hand. "Gentlemen, Signora Rapunzel; our leading soprano for five seasons with us. Always lovely as ever."

"Of course, of course. I've experienced all your greatest roles," Kristoff smiled, kissing her hand. "And Signor Flynn, it's an honor. I do believe that your character has a rather impressive solo in Act III. I ask as a personal favor to give us a private rendition." The chorus gave out a loud sigh, causing Rapunzel to glare at them before give them all a dark glare. They all snapped their mouths shut and she turned back to them.

"But of course," she laughed, snapping her fingers for some chorus girls to drape her with an elaborate green, red, and gold scarf. Everyone moved back as her voice rang out, causing a few members of the company to cringe in disgust. But just as she started to strut up the stage again as she always does, the sandbag and the backdrop it held up came crashing down behind all of them. A few members jumped out of the way just in time as a loud _smack!_ exploded around the empty theater. Everyone started to panic and scream, running around and flailing their bodies away from the backdrop.

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera!" a young girl with light red hair ran up, grabbing Monsieur Kristoff's jacket sleeve. She snapped her head around, trying to find the platinum-blonde haired girl in the chaotic crowd. He touched her arm, causing her fearful blue eyes to soften a bit. "He's there, the Phantom of the Opera," she whispered quietly, squeezing his arm even more. He lightly stroked her hair, trying to calm her down.

"Silence!" North yelled out, causing only a few people to stop yelling, but not all. He walked over to both messieurs and watched Anna pull herself off of Kristoff, red creeping up her cheeks. "Bunnymund, where is that man? He's the one in charge of these things. Bunnymund!" Soon popped out a young, tall, sandish-blonde haired boy dressed in a white long sleeved shirt, a tan vest and matching tan pants. "Bunnymund, for God's sake, what the hell is wrong with you! You could have injured or killed someone!"

"Please North, don't look at me. I was not at my post, Monsieur. Please, there was no one there. But if there was, then it must be a ghost!" he yelled out, scrambling back to his post to raise up the backdrop. He called a few stage crew to help him bring up the rope, and they all ran back up the stairs. Everyone started to lash out and yell again, exchanging panic theories with each other.

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera," Anna muttered again, rushing over to her dazed friend. "Elsa, what's the matter?" she whispered, grabbing her hands, but Elsa simply looked out into the empty seats with a far off stare.

Kristoff took one final look towards Anna and her friend, before calling up someone to bring a chair for Signora Rapunzel to sit down on. As her husband sat her down slowly and fanned her, Kristoff spoke up. "Signora, these things do happen," he smiled, forcing a laugh. Slowly, the smile on her face disappeared.

"Yes, these things do happen," she said through gritted teeth. "All the time. For the past three years, these things do happen. But until you stop these things from happening," she yelled, gesturing towards the stage, "this thing does not happen!" And with that, only the soft clicking of her heels could be heard. No one moved; no one made a single sound, only Flynn calling after her.

"She'll be back, right?" Kristoff asked, rubbing his hands together. "Oh yes, she'll be back."

"You think so, messieurs?" Madame Gothel questioned, watching her daughter, Anna, start to shake Elsa's shoulders. "I have a message, from the Opera Ghost himself." Everyone just groaned in agony. "He simply welcomes you to his opera and commands you leave Box Five for his use. Also, his salary is due," she spoke slowly, Sanderson let out a burst of laughter. "They paid him twenty thousand francs per month. Perhaps you could give more, with the Victomte de Changy as your patron," she sneered.

"I was hoping to make that announcement myself," Sanderson grunted, pulling out his flask. As everyone was figuring out who to put in and where they will sit. Elsa Daae sat there, her hands starting to shake out of nerves.

"Elsa Daae could sing it," Anna smiled, pulling Elsa up and dragging her behind herself. "She been taking lessons from her a great teacher." But Elsa wasn't listening. She kept glancing around the opera house quickly before snapping her attention back to everyone, but it seemed droned out to where she couldn't hear them speak clearly.

"Elsa, from the beginning of the aria, if you please," North called out from behind the piano. Everyone pushed back and listened to the soft beginning notes of the song.

"Think of me," Elsa sang softly, her voice shaking, "think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye." She quickly turned to run off, to hide her face from everyone laughing at her, but Madame Gothel glared at her, causing her to press on. "Remember me once in a while- please promise me you'll try." Monsieur Sanderson grumbled again towards Monsieur Kristoff and whipped out his flask again, forcing her to try even harder. "On that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free," she smiled, confidence slowly building inside of her, shocking everyone in the Populaire, "if you ever find a moment, stop and think of me." Soon, everyone started hustling and bustling around her, getting ready for the show. The dancers and a few back up singers stopped by in her dressing room to congratulate her on landing the leading role. They made her practice as the dressers fitted Elsa with a costume just as elaborate and beautiful as Signora Rapunzel's that she had worn earlier that day. Anna sat in with her, brushing her long, thick hair out and pinning it away from her face. The manager came in and ordered both of them to get into their spots.

"Good luck," Anna whispered, giving her arm a quick squeeze before getting into position. Pushing back a stray part of her bangs behind her ear, humming the tune of the opening as the curtain began to rise.

* * *

**So, that's chapter 2! I hope all of you liked it! I didn't realize how long it was until I had to scroll more than 3 times to get to the top. Haha, but anyways. I've made the decision to switch the roles of Jack and Hans; not really a Jelsa fanfiction if there aren't any romantic parts in this. We all know the relationship between Christine and the Phantom; well, more of an obsession I must say. But anywho, check out the updated chapter 1 if you haven't yet! Until next time, live to love and love to live!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all of you readers! So, I'm finally allowed to have a summer! Well, sort of. If you consider trading off your sisters and watching them everyday a summer, then I guess you can call it that. But anywho, I got my license yesterday! Woo! The freedom to drive alone is sweet, especially when you don't have to drive your siblings around. Nothing else in my life has really been new. Staying at home, locked in my bedroom with the computer on my lap; same as my summers from the past few years now. I don't have time to go get a new book to read (or a few dozen actually to hold me over for a couple weeks) but that's what my story does to me. And, speaking of stories, here's my next chapter! It's really long for those long chapter lovers! Enjoy!**

* * *

"We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea- but if you can still remember, stop and think of me," she sang perfectly. She walked over the floor-level, gesturing for one man to lean forward. She smirked and delicately draped the scarf around his neck. "Think of all the things we've shared and seen- don't think about the things which might have been." She slowly pulled it off of him, causing his face to turn red with embarrassment. She continued to sing, smiling and dancing while in the top box, Box 4, there sat a young man with untamed hair as white as snow. He smiled and exchanged a few words with the new owners of the Populaire before turning his attention back to the talented soprano. As she paused for the instrumental part of the song, he leaned over the railing and the grin on his face only growing bigger, his mind connecting all the dots.

"Can it be? Is it really her? Elsa?" he laughed, clapping his hands. "Bravo!" he yelled out, causing a few eyes from the other boxes shake their head at the sudden outburst from him, but he didn't care. "What a change. You are really not the young and innocent girl you were. She may not remember me, but I remember her." He leaned back and shut his eyes, listening to every note she sang. Soon, the instrumental came to an end and Elsa's powerful voice filled the opera house. She belted out the last note, lasting longer than the orchestra could. The curtain closed and all you could hear was the round of applause. The other dancers quickly swarmed her, congratulating her and handing her a bouquet of flowers.

"Yes, you did well. He will be pleased," Madame Gothel said, turning to glare at the other girls. "And you. You were a disgrace tonight! We rehearse, now!" she sneered, banging her cane before leaving. All the other girls followed suit, except for Anna. She quietly hid behind a stage prop, searching for her friend. When she spotted her, she ran out quickly, following her to the dressing room.

"Bravi, bravi, bravissimo..." came a soft whisper that surrounded Elsa. She stopped, looking around and smiled before she continued walking again. The familiar voice filled her with a soothing warmth. She smiled at the ground, messing with the flowers in her arms.

"Psst, Elsa," Anna whispered from behind the large elephant used in the show. "Elsa!" she hissed, but it yet again fell upon deaf ears. She scurried behind some actors from the performance. "Pssssssst," Anna said, making it really loud and obnoxious. But Elsa just walked into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Elsa," the same voice whispered to her, causing her to look back and see Anna sneaking into the dressing room. The shocked expression was gone and replaced with relief. Anna quietly raced up and hugged her, laughing as she pulled back and looked at her with excitement.

"Where in the world have you been hiding? You were perfect! I only wished I knew your secret. Who is this new tutor?" Anna laughed, watching Elsa's expression grow into a confused look before sitting in front of the vanity and unpinning her hair.

"Father once spoke of an angel, Anna. I used to dream he'd appear," she whispered, setting up a picture of her and her father together on the vanity. She was sitting on her father's shoulders, both of them smiling in front of the newly built Populaire, along with her mother holding her hand. She remembered the day when she did. She wore a long blue, poofy dress that came to her shins. It had long, thin sleeves and a little white bow that tied in the back, along with matching white shoes. Her hair was in its usual curls, cascading down her back like a white waterfall; a little blue bow tying her top part of her hair back. She brushed a few tears from her eyes before setting her hands back into her lap. She quietly looked at her best friend before looking into the mirror. "Now as I sing, I can sense him. I know that he is here." Suddenly, Elsa felt her body be taken over by some unseen force. "Here in this room, he calls me softly. Somewhere inside... hiding, in a way. Somehow I know he's always with me, he- the unseen genius," she muttered, giving half a smile.

Anna grabbed Elsa's shoes as she handed them to her. "I watched your face from the shadows, distant through all the applause. I hear your voice in the darkness, but those words aren't yours..." she uneasily spoke, worry filling her eyes. Elsa slowly stood up, walking to the large mirror in her dressing room, her eyes watching the ceiling as she took off her skirt and put on a white, frilly long robe and slippers.

"Angel of Music!" she called out, ignoring Anna's words completely. "Guide and guardian! Grant me your glory!" She grabbed the wall next to her, hanging her head down. "Please, stop hiding. Come out," she whispered before looking up at Anna.

"Angel...?" muttered Anna, watching Elsa closely. "Who is this Angel?"

They both looked into the mirror, saying at the same time: "This Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Secret and strange angel...".

"He's with me, even now," Elsa muttered, looking around her at her room.

Anna quickly grabbed her hands and suddenly released them. "Your hands are cold."

"All around me..."

Noticing her face, Anna cupped it with her hands softly, staring into her eyes. "Your face, Elsa, it's white!" Just as Anna touched her, Elsa snapped her head around to look at her with eyes full of terror. "Sh, it's okay," Anna whispered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"It frightens me," she barely whispered, pulling her friend even closer and buried her face into her shoulder. The voice echoed inside her head, and all she wanted was for it to get out.

"Don't be frightened," Anna whispered, stroking her hair. They stood like that for a few moments, Anna whispering promises of safety in her ear.

"Anna Gothel," a voice boomed, forcing the two friends to jump apart. "Are you a dancer?" Madame Gothel asked, glaring at her daughter. Anna slowly nodded, tucking back a stray piece of her red bangs behind her ear. "Then go and practice!" she yelled, forcing Anna to scramble as fast as her legs could carry her. "My dear," she smiled, pulling out a white envelope. "I was asked to give you this." And as soon as she appeared, she was gone.

Elsa eagerly opened it, pulling out a small note. "A red scarf, the attic, Little Lotte," she muttered, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Soon came some distant voices she recognized, but then one male spoke up, and she didn't know who it was. It sounded sort of familiar, but it didn't ring a bell in her head. She simply shook her head, putting the letter on the vanity before walking over to the wall mirror. She started to take off the top part of her costume when the dressing room door slammed open.

"Elsa Daae!" the man called out, spotting her and turn his head away to hide the rising red in his cheeks from the scandalous sight he walked in on. He rubbed the back of her neck out of nervous habit. Elsa noticed it and remember something from her childhood. _He has the same white hair effect as the little boy I played with as kids, _she thought to herself. _And, he has that same nervous habit he had as well. But it most simply cannot be him._ She turned around the opposite way, away from his red face.

"Monsieur!" she yelled angrily, snapping her robe shut and tying it. "Have you no courtesy for someone's privacy? Especially it being a ladies' dressing chamber, of all things!"

"I deeply apologize, but I was curious to where your red scarf is."

"Pardon?" she asked, very confused to the statement. Red scarf...?

"Oh, you can't have lost it. After all the trouble I took, I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin!" he laughed, pulling up a chair in front of one of the mirrors and sitting down at the vanity. He played with the letter and laughed to himself. Suddenly, everything clicked inside her brain.

"Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf!" she laughed, walking over to him, seeing how short he was compared to him; at least a good head shorter than him when he stood up to hug her waist. "Oh, Jackson, so it is you," she smiled. He lifted her hand and kissed it softly, not ever breaking eye contact with her.

"Elsa," he smiled back, handing her a single red rose he held behind his back. "Little Lotte, let her mind wander."

"You remember that too?" she laughed, letting the loose curls of her platinum blonde hair rest on her back as she reached to unpin the last pin that held a large chunck of her hair together.

"Little Lotte, fought am I fonder." He placed his hands on the table as he sat beside her. "Of dolls."

"Or of goblins of shoes, or of riddles or frocks," she smiled, resting the rose on the table.

"Those picnics in the attic, or of chocolates," he smiled, watching her sigh at the mention of chocolate. He quickly grabbed her hands and looking into her smiling eyes. She looked down at them and closed her hands, remembering the childhood memories.

"Father, playing the violin," she muttered, hearing the soft sound of the music in her head.

"As we read to each other dark stories of the North," he laughed full-heartedly, placing his face over a dimly lit candle on the vanity, trying to seem scary, but it only made Elsa laugh more before her face saddened slightly.

"No, but I love what most he said, is when I'm asleep in my bed. And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head," she smiled slightly, causing Jackson to be taken aback. He hadn't heard that name in years, believing that little lie her father told was wiped from her memory.

"The Angel of music sings songs in my head," they both whispered to themselves, trying to suppress the dark memories that followed suit.

"Father said, 'When I'm in Heaven, child, I will send you the Angel of Music to you,'" she muttered, grabbing her photo. Jackson stood up and began to pace and mutter to himself, but Elsa ignored his actions. "Well Father is dead, Jackson. And I have been visited by the Angel of Music."

He snapped his head around, his eyes full of anger for a second before softening and turning bright. He smiled at her and knelt down in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. "No doubt of it," he said, trying to keep his fake smile up. His eyes showed false happiness as he looked at her. "Now, we go to supper." He tried to stand up, but Elsa grabbed his hands and shook her head. He managed to shake her off and she quickly responded with words of protest. "You must change, dear, and I must get my hat. Two minutes." He opened the door and shut it behind him. She raced after him, but he was already gone. "Little Lotte," she heard his soft laughter echo through the empty hallways as she slammed the door shut, resting her back on it.

She clenched her shaking hands and tried to fight back the urge for tears to spill over. "Things have changed, Jackson," she muttered, wringing her hands together and sitting at the seat in front of the vanity again.

"Insolent boy," a booming voice called out, causing the candles to blow out, "this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory!" Her eyes widened and she gripped the edges of the vanity. All color was drained from her already pale face as she flinched at every scolding he made. "Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, trying to share in my triumph!"

Elsa watched her room, following the darting shadow making it's way around the dressing room. "Angel, I hear you speak, I listen. Stay by my side; guide me." She stood up and slowly made her way to her mirror on the wall. She watched her eyes brim with tears in her reflection as she muttered, "Angel, my soul was weak. Forgive me, please. Enter at last, master."

"Flattering child, you shall know me," the voice softened, surrounding her with calmness. "See why in shadows I hide. Please, wipe your tears. There's nothing to be scared of." She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand and smiled slightly. "Look at your face in the mirror, because I'm there inside." A face faded in, a face of a handsome man. He was watching, but only half of his face was illuminated. She smiled slightly, pressing her hand to the mirror.

"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant me your glory," she smiled, watching the tall, lean man scan her with his eyes. "Angel of Music, you don't have to hide any longer. Come to me strange, Angel."

Soon, mist began to cover the ground as her Angel began to sing the same tune over and over to her. "I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music." Elsa stared into his emerald green eyes, causing her to go into a trance as he sang the words again and again. The mirror slowly pushed open and the man stuck out his gloved hand.

"Elsa," a muffled voice came from behind the door, jiggling the doorknob. The Angel looked over and started to panic, causing Elsa to look over as well. Angel lifted her chin towards his face and continued to sing while Elsa stepped into the mirror. They continued through the dark hallway as the mirror shut behind them, closing them off through all the world around them.

"Elsa!" Jackson yelled, breaking open the door, but not a single soul was in sight. There only sat the single red rose he had given her. He searched around the room, lighting a candle to look in the dark corners of the room, but she wasn't there. "Damnit," he muttered under his breath as he sat down in the seat and put his head into his hands. "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" he yelled, throwing the candle across the room. Anna had heard the ruckus and ran inside to find Jackson pounding the vanity, Kristoff trailing along behind her. " Elsa, have you seen her?" They both shook their heads. "Then I want her found, damnit!" he yelled, slamming his fist into the vanity one final time, causing the two to scurry out of the room. He looked around one more time before storming out of the room, leaving the single rose on the vanity in the darkened room.

* * *

**Sooo, that's the chapter! I changed the end of it, I know. Please don't hate me! But, I was thinking of writing a modern fanfiction. But I don't really know what to write it as. So, if you have any random ideas you want to throw out, just put them in the review! Thank you all for the people following and liking the story! Until next week, live to love and love to live!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everybody! So, I know some of you readers out there like it when the story goes in the same way the play does. I'm sorry to tell you this: I have decided to change it up a bit. And by a bit, I mean a ****major**** change. I want to have Phantom's (Hans' *spoiler alert for the people who haven't figured it out yet*) past to mix with Elsa's. I also want to make Phantom to seem younger because I don't like the whole him-being-super-older-than-her. It's seriously creepy. I still haven't figured out how I want it to tie into it, but I will figure out a way. I really like this idea better than the original b/c it sort of makes more sense to me with why he's so obsessed with her. So, here's another chapter! Enjoy lovelies!**

* * *

"Follow me," he whispered, lighting the lantern with a match. He took her delicate hand in his strong one, squeezing it as they began to walk down a dark corridor. _That face,_ she thought to herself, _I've seen that face from somewhere. But where?_ Memories began to flash through her mind. She looked at every face and tried to find the man's face, but couldn't. Maybe he was just a backstage worker or a choir member who always had a small role in productions. But she knew everyone in the company, and how the heck would he know about her Angel of Music if the only person who had heard her was Anna or Jackson. No one else. As hard as she tried, her mind would not let her connect it all together. Out of frustration of giving up, she stared and watched the walls glide past her.

"In sleep he sang to me," Elsa muttered, trailing behind the strange man, "in dreams he came." She squinted her eyes and tried to get a better look at his features. Maybe if they were in direct light, his features would jog her memory. But due to the lack of light, all of his features were dulled down in the dark hallway. "That voice which calls to me and speaks my name." Tall; almost the height of Jackson. But they were both still at least a head taller than her 5'7" frame. Lanky body, with what looked like auburn-red hair gelled back to perfection, kind of what Jackson does on special occasions when they were younger. "And do I dream again? Because now, I find that the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind," she whispered to herself, using Anna's name for him. They took a turn and stopped at a wooden door. He let go of her hand, trying to unlock it. Elsa took a step back, causing the Phantom's eyes to flicker up to her face, but she couldn't seem to leave. She was drawn to him in some way; curiosity getting the better of her.

"Sing once again with me, a strange duet," he said, pulling her along as they went down narrow steps that were hammered into the wall with no railing to help. "My power over you grows stronger yet," he teased, leaning forward enough to where their noses almost touched. She felt her heart speed up, her ice blue eyes trailing up his face to meet his. But just as she did, he snapped back around and continued to pull her down the stairs. "And though you turn from me to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera is there," he muttered, pulling her close to his body to where his breath was on her ear as he whispered, "inside your mind." He pushed her away and raced down the hallway as she tried to regain her focus, his cape flailing behind him as he took a sharp corner.

"Wait!" she yelled out, picking up her robe slightly and racing down another hall after him. "Those who've seen your face, they draw back in fear!" she yelled out again, watching his body come to an immediate holt. "I'm the mask you wear."

"Those soft voices, it's me they hear," he snared, rushing back and grabbing her wrist. "Your spirit plus your voice, in one combined," he muttered, dragging her along towards a body of water. "The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind," he repeated, dragging her to something in the water. A boat. They climbed in and began to make their way across the lake. Mist swirled around them, only going by the light in the lantern hanging in the front of the boat.

"In all your small fantasies, you always knew, that man and mystery-"

"Were both in you," she cut in, her eyes widening in fear. She tried to crawl back but only to hit the back of the boat. "And in this labyrinth where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind." The boat came to a creaking holt, hitting the make-shift dock. The Phantom held out a hand for her, helping her stand and get out of the boat. They walked up to a path which lead to a run-down house. They walked in and made their way to an open room. In one corner stood a doorway which seem to lead to possibly a bedroom, and in the other side of the room was a large, dark-wooden organ. The Phantom threw off his jacket and watched her take everything in in fearful eyes before speaking.

"Sing," he growled, fixing his bowtie.

"Excuse me?" Elsa scoffed, taking a step back. "No, I'm not going to sing for you, you crazy man."

"I said sing!" he yelled, his hand reaching out towards her throat. And with that, something took over her body and forced her to start singing the lower part of the scale, with no control to stop it. _Stop! _her mind screamed at her. _Look away! Don't let him do this to you!_ But she couldn't; she kept on singing. Tears started to form in her eyes, tears of horror and distress. "Sing!" he yelled louder, causing her to flinch.

"Please," she begged, pausing to take a breath. She ran over to him, grasping his arm, causing him to flinch and stiffen at the sudden physical contact. But within a moment, he tried to get her to let go, but she only begged and tightened her grip more.

"Sing!" he commanded, pushing her off and into the wall. She quickly stood up and tried to run but something stopped her and forced her to sing higher and higher each and every time he told her to sing, burning her throat with dryness; in desperate need of a break to stop and catch her breath.

"Stop! I can't keep singing. It's too high!" she yelled, tears starting to slowly trickle down her face. For a second, she thought she saw a flash of sympathy in the Phantom's eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

"Sing for me!" he screamed, walking over to his organ, throwing papers to the ground. She sang the highest she could, the loudest she could, for as long as she could. He swiped his hand in the air, leaving her to be released and collapse onto the ground, clutching her throat. She tried her hardest to catch her breath, gulping in great amount of fresh air. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he laughed, squatting down in front of her. She crawled backwards and tried to escape, but only to have him grab her bare ankle. "No no no, you don't get to leave. Not without me, you little brat," he smirked, letting go and standing up, glancing down at her and laughing to himself before walking back to the organ. "With a little practice, you'll be able to sing anything I give you," he said, picking up the papers on the ground and examining them. He sat down on the plush seat at the organ and looked back up at her. "I'm writing something new. I'd show you, but it's going to be a surprise. I bet you'll love it as much as I do. And now that I know what scale range you're in, I can write the part for you." He gently put the paper back where it rested above the keyboard on the organ. "I have brought you, to the sin of sweet music's throne. To this kingdom where all must pay peonage to music." She sat up and stared at him, brushing away her tears. "You have come here, for one purpose and one alone. Since that moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you here with me, to serve me, to sing for my music," he whispered, walking and kneeling down in front of her, brushing her bangs out of her face, "my music."

* * *

**So, I hope you guys like the changes! I know I do. Please do the two R's: Read and Review! Until next time, love to live and live to love peaches! (Yeah that's right- I'm calling you guys peaches).**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! So, I had just watched the movie-version of Phantom of the Opera and oh my goodness. I have to say it was really good. The voices were phenomenal and the acting was great. But I must say, it was really different from what I thought it was going to be; much different from the play. But anywho, it's storming here and since it's so icky outside, let's not make it icky inside. So, another chapter it is! Also, after I finish writing a chapter, I will try and update. So, I'll try to update as fast as I can for you readers! Now, here it is! Enjoy!**

* * *

Elsa closed her eyes and leaned into the Phantom's hand on her cheek. "Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation," he muttered quietly, sliding his hand to the back of her neck. She stiffened, then relaxed a second later. He pushed aside her hair, and his breath was hot on her neck. She leaned her head slightly and touched his hand. "Darkness wakes, and stirs imagination."

"_Elsa_," a very soft voice called out in the distance, but Elsa couldn't hear them, only Phantom's voice. She was too far into his world of darkness, too submersed in the dark to even begin to see the light. Her mind tried to fight against her, to get her to break of the power he had over her, but she couldn't. Her mind told her one thing, yet her body did the complete opposite.

"Silently the senses abandon their defenses," he whispered in her ear, turning her around slowly to face him. "Helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the music of the night." He placed his hand on her slender waist, and held her hand in his. She looked at the ground, a frightened feeling in the pit of her stomach rising. But he placed his finger under her chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes and when they made eye contact, the feeling disappeared. She started to smile ever-so-slightly as he slowly and gently began to sway, causing her to sway as he was. "Slowly, gently," he murmured, "night infers it's splendor." He put his hand on the back of her back and other on her stomach. He took her hand and rested it on her stomach. She leaned her head against his shoulder and looked back at him. "Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender," he spoke, forcing her to straighten her body.

"I..." she started to say, but he simply lifted his hand to silence her. She needed to escape, she needed to run. Her mind tried to control her body, tried to make her at least move her fingers, but nothing would cooperate. It was as if her body was frozen in place and nothing would let her move.

As he walked around her, her eyes never left his. She took in every tiny feature he had: tanned skin, a very strong jaw, a clean shaven face, along with a very few extremely faint eye wrinkles, just like what her father had. Phantom caught her staring, and bent his head down very far to look at her. "Turn your face away," he muttered, pushing her face away with his hand gently, "from the garish light of day. But turn your thoughts away from away from cold unfeeling light, and listen to the music of the night."

"Please," she whispered, bowing her head to his chest. "No more." He brushed a piece of her hair, twirling it lightly in between his fingers. They stood there like that for a few minutes until she gently pushed his chest, searching his eyes. He was shocked; he wouldn't have though that she was coming to her senses. She was stronger than the others. He was able to manipulate everyone else easily. They girls would fall in love with him and be under his control for as long as he needed them, which wasn't very long. After he would dismiss them, they'd immediately pack up their belongings and leave, never returning. But Elsa, oh she was quite different from the rest. The others were confident in their work, whether if they were a dancer or singer, they believed they could do it. She was not confident in her dancing skills, even if she was one of the best in the academy, and her voice. Oh her voice was like a tiny bell being rung: small and light and beautiful. This is when he had to keep her controlled even more now. He sighed and took a step closer to her. He could hear her breath hitch and her eyes flung to the floor.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, Elsa refusing as she was told to do. "Surrender to your darkest dreams." He let her go, standing there helpless and afraid of herself. He had to try harder to convince her. "Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before." She gently shut her eyes, her hands shaking slightly at her sides. She felt something tingling inside of her; something that wanted to escape. "Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar."

"Phantom," she gasped, trying to grab at his shirt with her eyes closed. She felt some fabric and forced him towards her. She whimpered as she felt the sensation inside of her break free. Ever so gently, she opened her eyes and stared into his.

"And you'll live as you've never lived before," he muttered, touching her face. "Just as I have." She tried to move closer to him as he moved away. Her thoughts were silenced, drawing her closer to him.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you." She looked off and saw swirling colors around her. "Hear it, feel it," he said, sticking out his arms, "secretly possess you. Open up your mind. Let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight," he called out, gesturing her to come closer. "The darkness of the night." She reached out and went to touch his arm, but he pulled away before she could.

"But..." she muttered, stepping back.

"No," he whispered, leaning against his desk. "Never." He brushed a hand over his face and into his hair before a few moments. Phantom regained his composure, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to silence the dark voices ringing in his mind. "Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.

"I can see it," she smiled, watching the colors grow brighter around her, the music playing louder. She giggled as she tried to reach out and touch the swirling lights. They surrounded her with warmth, making her sigh in happiness.

"Let your soul take you where you long to be!" he yelled out. Her eyes immediately snapped shut as she was thrown into a mixture of visions. Her breaths came out as short gasps for air, unable to calm down her racing heart. "Only then, can you belong to me," he whispered, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist gently, her arms wrapping around herself as well. It was too much for her, and her head fell back onto his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay. I promise," he whispered, pushing back a stray bang that fell into her face.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication," he smiled, twisting her around to face him. "Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation," he laughed, lightly shaking her. He pulled her a little bit closer to his body, smiling into her hair. "Let the dream begin, let your darkest side give in." She stared at him, wrapping her fingers around his outstretched hand. "To the power of the music that I write. The power of the music of the night," he smiled, gesturing out towards the colors that were around them again. She stood there, watching.

"It's beautiful," she smiled slightly. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. The sudden force of contact felt like a burst of light that ripped through her body, and she started to fall back.

"Woah," he said, scooping her into his arms bridal style. "Let me put you down." He walked over to the black silk bed, covered in swirling silver lines. He pushed back the covers and laid her down, pulling the covers back over her fragile body. Her hair contrasted greatly against the sleek black pillows, like a white moon against the blackness of the night. He sat down beside her body, fixing the collar of her robe as he gave a small smirk. "You alone can make my song take flight." He stood up and watched her chest fall up and down with every breath. "Help me make the music of the night." He pulled the see-through black curtain in front of the bed before walking back to his organ, fixing his white bowtie. He smiled gently, knowing she would never leave him.

* * *

**Hey everyone! So so sorry I haven't updated! But I finally had time to do it! I hope you guys like it! And, I also am in the process of writing my modern AU Jelsa fanfiction! I'll start to post it up when I finish this story! I'll try my hardest to make these chapters long, but some chapters need to be filler, so bare with me! Until next time, love to live and live to love!**


End file.
